


Anagapesis:  The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did

by Nadyeahh



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Bubbline, Drama, F/F, Grief, Guilt, Romance, Sugarless Gum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:41:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadyeahh/pseuds/Nadyeahh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The duties of a ruler are neverending and varied. But it is the fate that Bonnibel was born into. Nothing is more important to her than the maintenance of her kingdom.  Yet that unwavering loyalty proved to be her downfall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anagapesis:  The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did

'Sometimes you want someone...'

It's been a week. A week since she's stopped wearing it to bed. A week since she'd started to finally let go. And Bonnibel is surprised to find that it wasn't as hard as she'd thought it was going to be. She hadn't winced when her hand brushed against the only piece of dark black fabric in her wardrobe. She had merely chosen her royal pink dress, pulled that out of the closet before closing it without another thought.

_'You want to kiss them and be with them...'_

She's been kidnapped by the Ice King again. It's the fourth time this week. She sighs as he presents his newest method of attempting to get her to accept his marriage proposal. A powerpoint presentation. How did this imbecile even get his hands on a laptop and projector? Stolen, most likely. Probably from her palace. She makes a mental note to tighten security once Finn and Jake have gotten her out of this place.

Her breath starts to come out in foggy clouds, as the temperature inside her icy prison reaches an uncomfortable degree. But Bonnibel is accustomed to the cold. Nights of being close to someone with no heart beat will do that to you. 

She silently recounts a method she had used to create a new type of explosive in her laboratory, the night before. A way to distract herself, while the Ice King drones on. Talking about nonsensical things, and their future "relationship" like "increases in spontaneity", and "free musical jam sessions every wednesday". 

Jam sessions... She'd always loved that red guitar axe of hers. The way her fingers deftly stroked the strings, almost making her jealous of how gentle the vampire queen could be to an inanimate object. Bruises left from rougher nights, no longer cover the princesses back, but she fondly remembers not minding at the time they were given to her. Her thoughts turn to the last song the woman had sung for her, or rather 'at' her. 

_'I'm just your problem...'_

Misunderstandings and fights. Reading into things that she had never said. Responsibility. All the things that had led to the end that they both never saw coming. Bonnibel snaps out of it, surprised to feel warm wetness running down her cheek. When had she started to cry? She dismisses it. Blames it on the Ice Kings scratchy voice, annoying her to the point of frustration. A resounding bang echoes through the palace as Jake finally punches a hole into the wall with his magically enhanced fist. About time. 

_'But you can't because responsibility demands...'_

She walks past the palace doors, after thanking Finn and Jake for their daring and courageous rescue. She greets her butler, asking him to please leave her alone for the rest of the night as there are experiments to be conducted. He bows respectively, calling her "Your highness", triggering another wave of guilt in her before taking his leave. 

She enters her sleeping quarters, the mask of royalty falling to reveal the one of a pained teenage girl. A face that her subjects will never see. Should never see. Bonnibel is a princess by birth right. A queen by default. And queens do not falter. She reminds herself of this fact, before going back towards the closet.

Hands on the carved candy handles, gripping them tightly... So tightly that her knuckles begin to shine white. She finds herself fascinated at the colour change, as it reminds her of the way her skin would react to a certain bite... Realising what she's doing, she stops gripping the handles, ridding herself of foolish thoughts and moves back. It's been two weeks.

She doesn't love her like she once did. She doesn't wear the shirt to bed. She doesn't search for her when she sleeps. She can say hello to her and genuinely smile. She doesn't feel the need to visit her in the dead of night any more. She's healing. She's moving on. 

But some days. Some nights. She remembers the way it was. The way they loved. The way she loved her. 

_"Sacrifice."_


End file.
